I OWN NOTHING
It's been established how I like to improve myself with every story I get out. On that note, lower your pitchforks and torches, I'll just try to do my best here.
Special thanks to Element-OverLord for helping me with a part of this story. Hope you enjoy it.
It was a cold night. Crickets were chirping, flowers were resting, and kids like Izuku Midoriya still had big dreams. Quirkless, that's what he was. With no Quirk he couldn't be a hero. A Quirk was what differentiated a normal man from heroes. No matter what people said, no normal human could replicate or outdo what people with Quirks did. And yet, his day had proven him wrong.
All Might, the legendary hero, was there in a roof, looking ready for take-off while Izuku just froze, trying to say something, to say anything…
Fate changed, and his words died in his throat, "Can I…" he tried to get more out, but he was gone. All Might had left.
"Well then, my boy, have a nice day!" were the great hero's words before he jumped off into the distance.
Paralyzed at his chance leaving, the boy fell to his knees, shutting his eyes tightly. "I… I guess I was asking for too much, huh?"
Gathering what he needed, he left the rooftop where he had talked with his hero, and passed by an alley… with very angry gangsters, "The fuck you looking at?!"
You know that feeling when your bladder readies your urine but you know you can hold it in for an hour? Just that shout alone caused Izuku to feel that when seeing guns and knives from the corner of his eye. The boy quickly hid behind a trash can and, after arming himself with all the courage he could muster, dared to peek out. Yep, definitely angry gangsters, all of them clad in very expensive suits surrounding… a tall man.
Calling the man tall was perhaps selling it short, pun unintended. Standing well over eight foot tall, he looked nothing like the average Japanese man. His hair was messy, brown, and pulled back, like a mane of feathers. Skinny limbs made him look like a walking stick, he was rather scrawny but didn't look out of shape, more like he was built that way. Last but not least he had piercing gray eyes set in some sort of permanent glare.
Looking directly at the man's eyes had the gangsters raise their weapons. Izuku looked closer, seeing he was perhaps in his late thirties with an unshaven grizzled face, and worn out clothes. His outfit consisted of a large green jacket worn fully open over his shoulders like a cape, a white button up shirt, gray slacks, and wooden sandals.
When the man turned to face the gangsters the boy saw something even more eerie, he had no right arm. The right side of his jacket covered the side of his body that missed an entire limb. And on his left hip, attached to his belt, was a long wooden stick with his only hand resting on top of it. No, it was no walking stick. The straight cane-like shape and a line on the handle said it was a sword.
"Huh, did I look funny at you, finely dressed gentleman?" the man asked in a very passive tone while rubbing his unkempt facial hair. "I'm only passing by and want no trouble. I swear, I'll just-"
"Shut it, asshole!" one of the gangsters shouted before shooting his fist forward, his arm stretching into a long octopus tentacle that lashed at the man's face just like a whip, "You've been waltzing around our turf long enough! Do you know what family owns this place?! Have you a death wish or something to deal with yakuza like us?!"
Blood dripped down the right corner of the man's mouth, but he simply used his thumb to wipe it away, "That wasn't kind of you, sir." He said calmly.
Izuku covered his mouth to avoid screaming in fear when the yakuza's limbs turned into eight tentacles, each holding a knife, "Shut up, this place is ours! If you walk here with a weapon without our approval, we wi-"
"Shut your trap!" the man snapped, putting his wooden sandal on the Quirk using thug's face, "I was just having a nice nap here and you punks just try to kick the shit out of me! I may be a hobo, alright, but I can still kick your shit in without a Quirk!"
"What?!" both Izuku and the yakuza asked in shock, though the boy managed to catalogue the odd octopus based Quirk in his notebook.
The man pulled out his sword in a flash, a straight-bladed katana with no guard that he held with ease. "You punks can claim to be as hot as you want with your Quirks, but back in the day when yakuza still walked proudly it wasn't talent what made them stand tall."
One of the yakuza smirked, bringing a bun to his face before pulling the trigger… showing it was a lighter, "Ya think we'll let yer ass off easy, dumbass?! Let me show you my Quirk, then! Gas breath!" he inhaled before blowing an invisible, odorless gas from his mouth. The instant it hit the flame, Izuku watched how the gangster turned himself into a human flamethrower.
Rather than being intimidated, the lanky man twirled his sword in his only hand. Mesmerized by his actions, Izuku watched and then felt his jaw drop when the blade spun around at great speeds, stopping the flames! And then, with a flick of his wrist, the man shoved the flames aside, letting them collide with the wall… and leaving a flaming picture on it of the swordsman's face, laughing.
With another flick, the man forced his blade to cool off while the gangsters trembled at what they just saw him do, "W-What kind of Quirk is that?!"
Snorting, the man replied, "No Quirk, pansies… Just skill."
When he gave a step forward the yakuza gave one back, trying to look at him in the eye. Due to his intimidating size and what they just saw him due, they could feel their fear crawling up their spine like cold ants. He gave another step, his sandals causing a sort of "clip, clop" sound as he moved closer. The gangsters readied themselves yet again… and he swung his blade once, just once.
To Izuku it was like he had just moved his arm to the side, but what happened couldn't be possible. Gales of wind appeared around the men, like gashes in the air itself. Weapons flew off their hands, the gangsters fell down, and large gashes appeared on their suits, but no blood was drawn. They fell down, hard, and half-conscious.
"How did… Didn't he just cut us?!" one of the gangsters exclaimed while checking his chest for any visible wounds.
The man sheathed his sword calmly, "I used the dull side of my sword. Next time you want to pick a fight, it'll be the edge." The narrowed look he gave the yakuza had them bolt to their feet, running off, "Tch… Buncha pansies. Now that everyone's got those Quirks it's like they think they got it easy…"
After his little rant the man spat on the ground and reached into his pocket, pulling out a bottle of sake he started chugging down. Once he finished the freckled boy was surprised he wasn't dizzy or that he showed any signs of having emptied a full bottle, not even slightly red cheeks. But just as the man threw the bottle on a garbage dump with the loud sound of it breaking, both he and Izuku heard a voice.
"Thank you…" said an elderly woman behind the man. "Had you not showed up, those men would have forced me to give everything in my business to them…"
The man waved dismissively, "Don't even worry…" he sat down on some folded cardboard with his right leg bent close to his chest and his left stretched, almost like a beggar, "You gave me food even if I didn't ask for it, lady. I'm not that much of a bastard to let pansies like them get away with shoving someone like you around."
She smiled, "I'll bring some leftovers for you then, dearie…. And thank you."
"Samurai…" the man turned to see Izuku stared at him, "Y-You're a samurai, aren't you?! I never thought I'd see one in this day and age. Well, you're more like a ronin given the fact you don't seem to work for anyone, yet you still behaved…" and so, Izuku started mumbling at light speed.
"Hey, kid… kid…?" the man started, getting no response but more mumbling, until… "Shut it!" the man yelled, getting Izuku to keep his lips tightly sealed, "What're you doing, looking at a fight between gangsters? If you get killed as young as you are then yer mommy will probably cry her pretty eyes off."
"S-Sorry, but you… you don't have a Quirk, right?" the boy asked, looking at him with a wide smile, "How do you… How did you become that strong without a Quirk? Please, tell me, where did you learn to be like that?! If someone like you can be a hero without a Q-"
"Hero, me?" the man asked, looking genuinely confused as he pointed to his face with a single finger. When Izuku nodded with a big smile the resulting burst of laughter from the man stopped the boy's grinning, "Me?! Ahahahaha! Are you for real kid?! Didn't you hear what I said to those punks? I'm no hero! I'm, or rather I was a yakuza."
Now that he mentioned it, if his clothes weren't so old he'd look the part, "But you kept that lady safe."
"Only because she fed me. Being in thighs? Not my thing." The man waved off, leaning his back on the wall, "Besides… When you use a sword, you don't get strong the kind way..." he looked at the boy before moving his jacket to the side, showing his right arm had been cut from the shoulder, "The only way to get strong with a sword is to kill or be killed, and I was no hero even before I learned to use one."
Izuku looked down, "But, with all that strength, you could-"
"Didn't you hear me, kid? Working as a hero ain't my thing." The man said before pulling out another bottle of sake, yanking the cork off with his teeth before spitting it off, "Besides, saving people who'd thank you one time and then forget you when you die? Having to save those that only see you as a lapdog to solve their problems? Doing all of that to show off and get money? Now, that is-"
"You never know unless you try!" the boy snapped, stopping the man from drinking, "I always dreamed of being a hero, even if I was born without a Quirk! And here you are, with no Quirk, but you act like the world is bleak with no hope! You want a reality check?! You just gave up too damn easy! I can see it, you just want to give up and remain where you are instead of trying! But now that I see what can be done, I will do something about it! I don't know where, but I'll find a way to learn to be a hero without a Quirk! I'll make my own way to be a hero."
With his heartbeat racing a hundred miles per hour, the boy left with tears threatening to burst from his eyes while the man just stared at him go.
After a quick glance at his still full bottle, the man threw it to the floor, not even caring if it broke.
It didn't take long for Izuku's day to escalate. The villain he met had not only gotten free because of his own foolishness but it had taken a hostage. Someone whose eyes pleaded for help. It was all it took for Izuku to run to save his friend in his time of need, to do what no other hero was.
However, there were times even the most unlikely of people could decide to be heroes.
"Huh?! Who are you?!" the sludge monster shouted at the newcomer.
The man sighed, ruffling his feathery hair, "Name's Akito Fujimoto, former yakuza…" he said while unsheathing his sword, "…and someone who needs to stop whining before a dumb kid tells me how full of shit I am."
Izuku gasped at the swordsman's arrival, while the liquid villain laughed, "A sword?! Couldn't you have chosen-" his words died in his throat when the man swung his sword. Large gashes appeared on the villain's body, setting both children free.
"Don't underestimate a true swordsman!" the man shouted as he brought up his sword and swung it down, splitting the villain in half and also getting one of his eyes.
Everyone was shocked at the brutality of the lanky man while the villain screamed at the loss of his eyeball, "Y-You bastard! My eye! My fucking eye!"
Sheathing his sword, the man turned to the heroes, "What're you waiting for, an invitation?! Kick this guy's ass!"
"You need not tell us twice, for I am here!" shouted a familiar deep voice, surprising everyone when the greatest hero of all stepped forward and with a single punch caused the villain's liquid body to rain down.
Izuku sighed in relief when everything was over… but his expression turned into shock when all the heroes turned to the swordsman, "Can it be…?" one of them whispered in surprise.
Keeping his only hand on his sword's handle, the swordsman gave the heroes a tired one-eyed look, keeping his other eye shut, "I don't suppose you'll let me through, huh?"
All Might stepped forward, and actually had to look up at the lanky sword wielder, "If your name is Akito Fujimoto, you're the yakuza who fought and defeated a hundred villain gangsters without a Quirk. You defeated them for your honor as a swordsman and earned the title of the Steel Demon. You are the stuff of legends in the underground, and not for reasons I want to discuss."
Placing his only hand on the stump on his right shoulder, the man replied, "I'm no longer in that life. I've paid the devil his due, and as far as I recall the police dropped the charges."
"In that you're right…" All Might admitted, "I shall let you go since you helped those two boys before I, and because of who you fought for back in your old days."
Bowing deeply to the hero, Akito turned around and spoke, "This is why I can't be a hero… too much drama."
Izuku just watched him walk, but not before the man handed him something, "Ah, my notebook!"
"You dropped it when facing that ball of filth, so don't lose it, dumb kid." The man said while rubbing his facial hair with a tired look.
That had happened earlier in the day, and while Izuku got scolded for his actions, with people telling him how foolish he was, he also found something. In his notebook there was a slip of paper sticking out. After observing it in detail, he had to make a choice. He looked at his own face in the mirror after he prepared himself, giving his reflection a determined nod before slowly and silently leaving his home.
A good walk later and he was at a park near where he met All Might and Akito. And there, seated on a bench with his right foot pulled up on the seat, was the grizzled swordsman, "Fujimoto-san…" he shook, "Why did you call me here for? After everything that happened, everything you said, you-"
"You talk too much!" the man growled, smacking the boy on the head with his sheathed sword.
"S-Sorry… I know I tend to ramble…" Izuku was about to whine but sucked it up.
He waited for Izuku to properly rub his pained head before speaking again, "You wanted to learn how to use a sword, didn't you?" he kicked a random stick from the ground towards Izuku, who caught it, "Congratulations, you got the most selfish hardass in this world to be your sensei."
"F-Fujimoto-san!" Izuku exclaimed with a large grin.
"Fujimoto-sensei!" the man corrected, barking the proper way to address him.
"S-Sorry, Fujimoto-sensei!" Izuku stood straight before bowing deeply, and then straightened his back to look the man in the eye, "Sensei… Why? What made you change your mind?"
Grabbing his neck to crack a few joints in place, the swordsman replied, "Because you didn't pity me."
"Huh?" was all the kid could reply.
The tall swordsman explained himself, "Rather than look at me like a cripple, you told me that I was being a miserable bastard. And instead of agreeing with what I said and leaving me to rot, you just said something that I should have told myself more…" he held his still sheathed sword up, using it like a stick, "To make your own path to be a hero… That's how I know that you can be a hero."
With his knees trembling, Izuku fell to the ground after hearing such words. His tears couldn't stop. The tall swordsman waited for him to cry as much as he wanted, having figured he had a lot in his chest.
Once he was done and wiped his tears, Izuku beamed, "Then please allow me to introduce myself! I'm Izuku Midoriya! Please take care of me, Fujimoto-sensei!"
Hefting his sheathed sword on his shoulder, the man grinned, "Who said I'd be gentle?" that caused cold sweat to run down Izuku's face, "After all the shit you told me before there's no way I'm making it easy for you! If I am stuck with you as my only disciple, I'll make sure you surpass me or die trying!"
Rather than letting his fear keep going, Izuku put on a brave face as he declared loudly, "Yes, Fujimoto-sensei!"
Smiling, the former gangster spoke, "We shall meet tomorrow at dawn, and bring that sword."
"You mean this stick?" Izuku questioned.
"No, the one in your pants. Of course the stick!" Akito replied in a snarky manner, "If you want to learn how to use a sword, you must understand how fragile a blade really is. You need to understand how it works, and to do so that stick will be your sword. You'll take care of it, love it, even sleep with it in your arms to understand how a blade works. Anyway, we shall meet at…"
The next morning not only did Izuku arrive at a large beach covered entirely in trash, clad in his track suit, but found his new sensei and… "A-A-A-A-A-"
"Out with it already!" his sensei snapped.
Behind the dirty yakuza a certain man chuckled, "It's alright, I've gotten used to a few fans acting that way."
"All Might?! You know All Might, sensei?!" Izuku asked.
The man scoffed, "Not because I wanted to, but he's the only guy I know that can teach you how to strengthen your body while I teach you how to use a sword."
"Worry not, my boy, I won't put your sensei behind bars. After all, he does deserve to be out of jail." All Might said.
Sighing tiredly, the gangster pulled out a bottle of sake, "This is just the start, kid. Don't expect us to go lightly on you. You're not learning to subdue people, when you use a blade you're striking to harm them."
He was about to enjoy a large gulp, but All Might stopped him with his hand between the swordsman's lips and the bottle, "With my help you should do well in understanding your body's limits."
"Ugh… Yeah, you can't just run out of breath with three swings, so that's why I asked this guy the favor." The swordsman said before walking away and enjoying his drink.
With that, Izuku started to train his body as soon as possible.
And watching him were a hero and a former yakuza, making him question how weirder his life could get.
With the two mentors things were different, All Might broke the silence. "Taking a student. I never expected you to want to help a hero."
"I still don't want to." The gray eyed man said, "That kid's just too clingy to his dream. If he has to fight for it, he better give it more than his all. Otherwise he may end like me."
As he drank again more booze, the muscular hero spoke, "You are still a hero, at least to me. If it weren't for you, a man who had no reason to help me, I don't know how I'd have ended."
Sighing tiredly, the swordsman put aside his bottle, "Forget it. You got the police to let me free from what I was getting myself into… I couldn't have done it at a better time. My boss was suicidal, everyone in my clan were selfish assholes, and I had no reason to fight for any of them. You, though… You're that kid's hero. Losing an arm to that bastard wasn't that much of an issue after what I walked into."
"Recovery Girl herself said the damage that attack would have caused me is beyond compare. You are a greater man than you think you are." All Might said.
Smiling softly, the sword master threw away his empty bottle, "And that kid's dumber than he realizes he is, but he's the one to tell me what kind of kick in the ass I needed. Perhaps I can be of use once again."
The tall blond hero smiled, "When he graduates from UA he could be the one to inherit more."
Akito raised an eyebrow in question, but decided to shrug it off and grab another bottle.
Time passed, and in the first few weeks Izuku had to learn how to hold a sword while sparring with Akito. The results ended with him kissing the sand before getting back up with gritted teeth and bruises, "Come on, kid! Don't just swing that thing around! It's meant to be a part of you. Unless you feel every fiber of it through your fingers, you won't get to know what it can do in your hands!"
And with an upward strike Izuku was sent flying to land flat on his back. The second week came and they rigorously trained in how to use a sword. By that time Izuku was confused as to why he felt comfortable sleeping while hugging his pretend-sword. The third week was all about counters without letting his weapon break. The fourth did focus on attacks but the boy was on the receiving end of them.
That concluded the first month, and the second month started… "W-What?!" Izuku gasped when his sensei handed him a simple blade. It had no guard, no handle, it was just the blade and the piece of metal the handle, "How am I supposed to train with this thing? It's just a slab of sharp metal."
"Who said anything about training?" Akito said while unsheathing his sword. "This is a fight."
Izuku gulped and tried to hold the blade he was handed in both hands. That night his mother nearly fainted when the boy appeared covered in bandages and limping. When questioned about what happened, he said he was taking his training to be a hero seriously. The poor woman fainted again, but couldn't do anything to change his mind. That week was Hell on Earth for him.
The next one… "S-Sensei…" the boy panted while swinging a log up and down like it was a sword, and it was a big log, about the size of his body. His fingers had blisters over their blisters, and he could feel the skin of his palms peeling, "Aren't I supposed to understand how frail a blade can be with a stick?"
"We'll get back to that sooner or later, for now your muscles must know what it's like to swing a sword." He threw an empty bottle in the air before swinging out his blade in a flash. Izuku watched in amazement how the booze container was split clean in half, "If your body doesn't understand how to swing a blade with all it has, you'll just be a sloppy monkey with a stick."
"A-Alright!" Izuku said, swinging harder than before, ignoring the pain his hands were on.
Spars became more merciless, training always developed into more hellish sessions, and every technique he learned demanded absolute perfection, as did his sensei, "You're always welcome to give up and run, kid. That All Might may want you to clean this beach, but I ain't that nice. If a swordsman teaches another is to see that bastard surpass him. The moment you hold a blade you thank me by becoming stronger than me."
"Yes, sensei!" the boy said in the middle of a spar, putting both his sword against Akito's in a stalemate. He spun around, making sure his blade kept the man's at bay before bringing it up to try to strike his right side.
However, it only got his face a nice introduction to his sensei's sword's wooden pummel, "Naïve! Never think an opponent will be kind enough to let their guard down!"
Holding a bloody nose, Izuku nonetheless got up and held his sword singlehandedly. "Again, please! That time… I was slow, so let me try again!" Grinning, his sensei obliged him.
And then, after the first five months had passed, Akito took him to a dark alley, through a door to a large and bizarre shop.
"This is…" Izuku said, running his hand over a sword on display, "Whoever made this must be a great blacksmith."
"A sword is an extension of the swordsman, kid." Akito said as he walked in after hunching under the doorframe, "This is where I got my own sword. The man here is the one to say what blade fits you best. Blacksmiths like him are one of a kind, so do mind your manners."
"I could say the same to you…" spoke a bald elderly man in a blue kimono and a long white goatee. Small squinted eyes examined the two, "Ah, it's been a while, Fujimoto… I see you still hold your sword closely."
"Master Utahoshi…" the tall man said, bowing in respect, "It's good to see you, even after so much time."
The man nodded, rubbing his beard, "I trust you didn't come here to ask me to repair the blade. Hmm…" he looked at the small boy, "My, my… a young swordsman."
"You can tell?" Izuku asked in awe.
"The way your shoulders' muscles are built say so, as do your hands, boy." He motioned to the heavily scarred palms Izuku gained from the intense training, "Let me see your palms closer…" Izuku did as told, letting the man's eyes examine every inch, "Strong yet intelligent, strategic and quite resourceful… Yes… These are hands I've wished to see. If you desire a sword, come by in five months. I'll craft the perfect one for you."
A bright grin spread on the boy's face as he bowed to the man, "Thank you so much, Master!"
The elder chuckled, "He's a good one. Fujimoto, you did well in teaching this boy. That willpower is nothing to sneeze at."
"Trust me, master, I know." The man said.
Once again, time continued to flow forward, and Izuku had finally made it…
"This is… it…" he smiled, but many other hopeful candidates took their time to look at him. Gone were the noodle limbs, for his body had gained quite some muscle. Another thing he had gained were proud battle scars. Currently the bridge of his nose had a band aid over it, covering a small but deep cut, while his hands were covered in scar tissue. And last but not least, everyone and their mother could tell the boy was armed.
On his left hip was a simple looking sword. It had a black-laced handle, a round steel guard, featureless pummel, and a black wooden sheath. It didn't look like much, but the way he carried it without a single dangling sound. He was expecting a lot of things, some changes in his life, some madness to greet him. He did find something insane at the door, his sensei.
"So… All Might told me you cleaned the entire beach." Akito said as he leaned on the entrance.
Izuku nodded, "If I want to be a hero, I got to give to push myself forward beyond any limits."
"Then let me say this as your teacher…" Akito started, "You… were nothing but a pain in my ass, and I'm glad I got rid of you."
The boy's jaw nearly hit the floor, "H-How heartless! You're cruel, cold!"
"Hah, told you there was a reason I was no hero." The man said with a smirk before, to Izuku's surprise, patting the boy's head, "But I also know you're tougher than you let on. So go in and show them what a guy with no Quirk can do, kid. If you bleed for your dream, you have the right to grasp it when it's in front of your nose."
With that he left, his sandals still making little noise as he did so. Izuku was about to nod before a thought went through his mind, a ridiculous idea which he knew that his sensei would immediately shut down and probably went against what he learned… but even so…
"Sensei!" He quickly called to the retreating man, whom glanced back curiously before the young man continued, "Please fight me!"
Upon seeing Akito's eyes widen, he continued before the swordsman could say anything else, "I mean not right now! W-What I mean is that once I graduate from this academy, and become a real hero, I would like to fight you yet again… but not as master and student, but as equals! Please sensei!" Izuku finished while bowing down, nervous as he didn't hear anything before…
"Pft! He… he he he… ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!" Laughed Akito, much to his young disciple's disbelief before he said, "Normally I would smack ya right now until you went back home to your mom, y'know?" That made Izuku freeze up in fear before Akito's grin became warmer, like a parent being proud of his child as he said, "But now… don't make me regret waiting so long for nothing, future hero…"
"Yes, sensei!" Cried out Izuku as they smiled determined at each other before Akito turned around and walked away until the young boy couldn't hear him anymore.
"Dumb kid… don't say such sappy stuff…" the man said while wiping his eyes with his thumb.
"Heh, you always had a heart." Said a familiar overly muscular blond man when the alcoholic sword master walked into a corner.
"Piss off." The swordsman told All Might.
The grinning hero chuckled, "Fujimoto my man, even you can see that boy is no ordinary hero. To choose to fight without a Quirk by going through your training, you know he'll keep his promise and beat you."
"Wouldn't want it to be any other way." The homeless swordsman said.
"That is why, I want to thank you." The hero's words surprised man, "A boy like him becoming a hero without a Quirk, through his own effort, fighting against great enemies has been unheard of. Yet you, a man who used to despise heroes, decided to make him one. Whether it was for his dream of something from your personal agenda doesn't matter. You gave someone a chance to show everyone what determination can do."
With a small smile, the hobo left.
At the exam things were a different story.
Izuku trembled from head to toes as he and many other candidates were before the entrance to the fake city the exam would take place. He was in his tracksuit and busy tying his sword to his hip. While he did so a couple of candidates stole a few glances at the armed teen. Some kept their distance, some inched closely but not too much to the boy they'd never assume was a swordsman if not for the scars in his hands.
And then, Present Mic called for everyone to get ready at the entrance. Izuku immediately gripped his sword with his right hand, his left steadying the sheath as he looked at the place where his test would take place.
"Hey you!" the radio host-like hero shouted, "It's only now that I notice this but… Why are you bringing a weapon to this test?!"
Everyone's attention was on the boy, who begun sweating up a storm, "S-Sorry, but this is the only way I can fight!" he bowed apologetically.
Mic just grinned, "In that case, I shall allow you to fight! Many heroes have needed a catalyst or method of using their Quirk, and some can create their own weapons! Just know, in UA we expect you to respond to any crisis with and without weapons!"
"I understand, sorry!" the boy said, bowing again, and when Present Mic was about to speak yet again, Izuku spoke louder, "But! But… No matter what, I won't lose this sword! No matter what happens, I won't let it out of my sight! Because I want to be a hero with my own strength, and this blade is a part of me!"
The hero smiled, "Very well! Let us see what you and everyone can do! Ladies and gentlemen, it's… Game time!"
With that, everyone rushed into the city, ready to take the challenge face on. Izuku's hands moved on instinct, and he soon rushed head first with both hands on his sword, the blade at his side.
It didn't take time for him to find his first adversary, a simple robot with three legs aiming right at him. Yet, rather than freeze or run away, Izuku gave a long step forward, spun around his body, and swung his blade.
"No… way…" Present Mic gasped, pulling up his glasses at what he saw.
In one clean cut, Izuku had split the robot in two with a smile on his face. Sparks flew as both halves fell opposite from the other, cables, steel, and many parts cut like they were hot butter.
With a sigh, Izuku kept moving, "I'll be a hero with my own strength!"
With that declaration and sword in hand, the young boy moved forward.
And that's my rap!
Love it or hate it, I just felt compelled.
The idea of My Hero Academia is great and so well executed I don't think I could add anything to it. So, why make this? Well, I had an odd kick for samurais using only one arm for battle thanks to a comic I saw of Xenoblade Chronicles… The rest came from a mixture of Zoro and Shanks from One Piece, Baiken from Guilty Gear, and Qrow from RWBY to create Akito Fujimoto.
Basically, yes, it's self-indulging and I do feel ashamed about it, but I had fun so I'll take any complains you want to throw at me so long as they're constructive criticism and not just blind hatred.
Backstory wise, Akito was a yakuza, but his clan went too power hungry and had him fight at the wrong time and the wrong place, or the right place and right time given who he faced. In the middle of that battle he gave his arm for All Might, saving him from losing most of his vital functions and turning into a stickman. This of course left him bitter and useless to his clan, so he became a hobo samurai.
But of course, since Izuku is… well, Izuku, it was only a matter of time before the kid's spirit rubbed on him and he wanted to do something for the kid.
Author's note: I got an angry review about me not making Izuku cut anyone with a sword, saying that him not slicing and dicing enemies makes him weaker. See, my initial thoughts when reading My Hero Academia is that the heroes frown on killing villains, at least that was my impression, so I went along with it. Besides, Izuku's the nicest guy around, you don't think he'd just cut down anyone in half like that, do you?
But then I realized what chapter they were ranting on, chapter 4, the fight with Katsuki. Guys, Katsuki is a fellow classmate, I can't have Izuku just cut him to pieces! In the future some villains will force him to do so, all right, but a fellow hero, even one as questionable as Katsuki, is not someone that Izuku would just slice and dice to get the blood flowing out. As for villains, I went with the Ruroni Kenshin route so far.
You see, I am going by my assumptions on canon that Izuku is a guy that wants to be the hero that helps others, not harm them. When he tried to punch Noumu he actually didn't want to kill the thing. And even when he faced that muscle freak that killed two heroes, I didn't see him thinking he should kill the guy for his actions. To me Izuku is the hero who uses a sword to protect, not to draw blood unless it's needed.
Trust me, when dealing with irredeemable guys like that, Izuku will have to get serious and start slicing, but for the mast part just settle for him breaking bones like in chapter 7. Sure, breaking bones hurts like all Hell, but he was fighting villains trying to harm him. I'll make it a point that when it comes to true evil, the kind of villains that would never change, that Izuku will make his sword stops them one way or another.
Either way, I hope you guys had fun.